


Sweat Baby, Sweat

by QueenOfBrooklyn



Series: Hockey Dads [4]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Babies, College, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Hockey, M/M, Montreal Canadiens, Push-Ups, Sit-ups, Workout, bring your kid to work, hockey dads, runs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-16 12:17:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9270860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfBrooklyn/pseuds/QueenOfBrooklyn
Summary: Five times Jack worked out with his son, and one time he worked out with his daughter.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to get this out over break, but alas, when I sit down to write nothing comes out aha  
> But I did want to post it before the semester got to busy, so here's another fluffy installment of our favourite Hockey Dads :)  
> I apologize for any errors, I proof read this quickly, but I hope you enjoy it all the same! :) 
> 
> See end of story for Gifs/posts/photos that inspired the different segments :)  
> And shoutout to thelordvoldemort for the helping hand and for listening to my incessant whining about writers block!

1.  
Sometimes having a home gym is useful. When he’d mentioned wanting to have one in the basement, Bitty had thought it was ridiculous. 

“You spend all your time at the practice rink or at the gym there, do you really need to come home and work out here too?” he’d asked Jack. 

“It’s for the times I can’t go in, or during the summer. And come on, you can use it too. We can use it together!” Bitty gave him a look. 

“Jack Zimmermann, if you wake me up at 4 am, I swear…” The glare he shot Jack should have been intimidating, however it only made the older of the two throw his head back with laughter. 

Let’s just say that Bitty was now very much glad that Jack had won that argument in the end. 

“Honey?” Bitty called, his voice borderline hysterical, matching what sounded like Myles’ hysterical sobbing. With a grunt Jack lifted the barbell back onto its rack before sitting up and wiping his sweaty brow with the bottom of his t-shirt. 

“Coming!” he called back. He pushed himself up off the bench and took the stairs two at a time to meet Bits at the top. 

The second Myles caught sight of him the crying stopped. 

Bitty sighed in relief. “I didn’t think he was ever going to stop. What are we gonna do on your next roadie? Or the next time you leave the house and he gets fussy?” 

Myles had been going through an odd phase where the only thing that would make him stop crying was his Papa. 

“We’ll figure something out Bud, I promise,” Jack chuckled, pulling the baby into his arms and bouncing him lightly. “Think he’ll be okay if I hand him back now? I still have a half hour of cardio to do…” The second Jack tried to shift Myles back to Bits he started wailing again. The look on his husband’s face was one of sheer panic so Jack pulled Myles back to his chest. 

“It’s okay, we’re okay,” he assured himself as well as his two boys. Twenty-minutes, a baby blanket covered in elephants and a car seat later, Jack was on the elliptical and Myles was quietly staring up at him as he sucked happily and quietly on his pacifier. 

2.  
Spending time with your family is hard when you’re an NHL player. With older children and husbands it was manageable, with things like Skype and FaceTime you could stay in touch quite easily while on the road, but with a 5 month old, things weren’t so simple. Sure, Jack could try talking to Myles through the screen of his laptop or tablet, but obviously his son wasn’t yet old enough to grasp what was going on. Besides, Myles was already growing up so fast and it was killing Jack to miss it all. 

Now, the season was over. It was sooner than Jack would have hoped, but you couldn’t win them all. And though he was upset, he _was_ excited to be able to spend some time at home with his family, to the point where, during the first couple of weeks he had off, he rarely let Myles out of his sight. Where Jack went, the baby came perched on Jack’s hip, strapped across his chest in a carrier, or being pushed in a stroller. 

It was quite endearing. Though Bitty chirped him when Jack brought Myles with him on his workouts. 

“Seriously, it’s like I’m having déjà vue. Except this time, it’s not Myles throwing a tantrum when he’s separated from you; it’s the other way around.” 

Jack would pout and make his case, and would bring up how Bitty hadn’t set Daisy down for a full 48 hours when they’d first brought her home. Bitty would then argue that it wasn’t the same, but Jack would make his pouty puppy dog eyes and the chirping would stop. For a brief period of time. 

Though, this didn’t stop Jack from strapping his boy in a stroller and bringing him out for runs through the park. And if the sight in Jack in tight running clothes, dark sunglasses, and his old Samwell cap, pushing their child in a stroller didn’t make Bitty shut up, then who knows what would. 

“Excuse me? Shit, you’re fast. Is this yours? I think I saw it fall from your stroller about a kilometer ago, I tried to catch up, but you’re _really_ fast,” Jack looked up from where he was crouched in front of his crying son, praying that Myles didn’t need a diaper change seeing as they weren’t near any place where that could be done in a sanitary fashion. “Oh! You’re Jack Zimmermann! Hi!” 

Jack smiled at the flustered teen that was holding a stuffed moose that looked suspiciously like the one that was missing from Myles’ stroller. He stood up; taking the toy that was handed to him. 

“Yeah, thanks,” he said handing the stuffed animal back to his boy who almost immediately stopped crying. “And hey, if you ever run into my husband, you should tell him that you think I’m fast, he doesn’t believe me,” Jack chuckled. “What’s your name?” 

“I’m Alex… And would it be totally out of line to ask for a selfie? I’d say autograph but I don’t have a pen…” the boy asked, chewing on his lower lip nervously. “I really don’t wanna interrupt your day, feel free to say no….” 

“Yeah, sure,” Jack interrupted, nodding. “It’s the least I could do; you made the crying stop. Sorry if I’m a little sweaty,” Jack chuckled. He got in close the teen and smiled at his phone. “You a hockey fan?” He asked when the photo was taken.

“I’m actually heading to the states to play in college in the fall… Samwell,” the teen flushed slightly and Jack grinned. “Any tips?” he asked. 

Jack paused, thinking for a moment. “Eat tons of protein… And the workouts can get brutal but if you can find a workout buddy it makes them more bearable,” he chuckled gesturing to the stroller. 

“Wow, okay, thanks. I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you. I’ll, um, I’ll let you get back to your run… It was nice to meet you.” 

“We’re not quite done our run yet, Alex; if you want you can join us. Or try, if you can keep up,” Jack chirped. He made sure that Mr. Moose was securely in the stroller before grabbing onto the handles and starting off along the path. Behind him, he could hear Alex’s footsteps thump against the path trying to catch up with them. 

3.  
“Seventy-eight, seventy-nine, eighty,” Jack huffed quietly under his breath. He stopped in his sitting position to take a short breather. The central air had to choose today of all days to not want to turn on. It was mid-July in the middle of a heat wave and Bitty had a meeting downtown, leaving Jack in charge of the kids. Which also meant that he couldn’t go to the training facilities and get his work out done in the cool air conditioned gym, nor could he use his own gym in his cooler-than-his-living-room basement because he had to keep an eye on his eight year old and his almost seven month old who was just starting to crawl. There was just no way that the three of them could go to the basement and it not result in some sort of injury. 

So Jack chose the living-room with the large windows thrown wide open, three different fans spinning at the fastest speed, the TV turned on with the morning news playing quietly as Daisy made them blueberry mini pies for lunch out of play-doe and Myles lay on his back fully entertained by the stuffed animals hanging above his play-mat. 

“Eighty-one, Papa,” Daisy reminded him, as though he’d stopped the exercise because he couldn’t remember what number came next. Jack chuckled under his breath as he wiped his brow and continued with his sit-ups. 

“And in French?” he asked. Her tiny eyebrows pulled together and her lips pursed ever so slightly. Jack was way past eighty-one now. 

“Quatre-vingt-un?” she asked uncertain. Jack didn’t blame her; numbers in French were tricky, especially after learning them in English first. 

“Very good!” he praised with a grin. He went on for a few more reps. He reached one hundred before lying on his back with a sigh. His heart rate had almost dropped back down to normal when he felt tiny fingers press into his jaw and a tiny mouth press against his forehead. He peeked his eyes open to find his son towering over his head. 

“What are you doing over here you little rascal?” He reached up to tickle the tiny boy’s belly, causing him to giggle. “Did you crawl all the way across the room by yourself? And I missed it? Oh boy, Daddy is gonna be mad at us,” he tickled his son again and earn a giggle and another kiss as a reward. “Better get the video camera.” 

With much protest from the tot Jack got up and grabbed Bitty’s tripod from across the room. He positioned it so it was it pointing towards the floor. This way, no one would miss Myles crawling. Well, they might, seeing as the little monster had weaseled his way out of the shot and in between Jack’s feet. 

“Come on bud, just a little while longer and Papa will be all yours,” he assured the baby, scooping him up and placing him back on his play-mat. “We’ll go outside and play in the pool once we’re all done digesting breakfast and the news is over.”

Jack got back down to the floor himself to start another set of core exercises. He didn’t even get the chance to start before he caught sight of movement in his peripheral vision. “You haven’t changed a bit, have you? Still wanna be a part of Papa’s workouts?” he teased, picking Myles up and holding him at arms-length in the air. The boy squealed in delight. “Is that fun?” Jack asked lowering him and then raising him back up again. 

Well. This wasn’t a bad work out. It definitely was not as much as he usually benched, far from it, but it could work. And it was certainly entertaining the tot. 

_X_ 

“Jack?” Eric called, later that night, stepping into their bedroom. “Why in the world were you using our son to do Russian twists?” he asked, holding up the camera. 

“He thought it was fun, and I got a work out in. I had been filming in the hopes of catching him crawling but then we got distracted…” 

“I’ll say… You know, when the boys ask you what you did this summer, this is what I’m gonna show them. Better yet, I should send this to your PR team; this needs to go on Habs Tv.” 

Two weeks later the _#hockeydadbod_ video on the Habs Youtube channel went viral. 

4.

Myles was two and learning how to count. Or well, that’s what his parents were hoping. Myles was being pretty stubborn about it. 

And yes, Jack and Bitty knew that each child developed at their own rate and that they should be patient and that it would happen when it would happen but… still. The knowledge was there, the boy just refused to even try to count! He knew his numbers; he just didn’t want to put them in order. 

Jack was in the home gym one morning when he heard a set of feet clamber down the staircase. 

“No running on the stairs kiddo,” he called, lowering himself down into a push-up position. The poor boy’s feet, more often than not, traveled faster than his body, resulting in quite a few tumbles and falls. It was one of the reasons they were reluctant to get him into a real pair of skates any time soon. Then again, maybe he took after his uncle Derek and would be more stable on blades than in a pair of sneakers. 

When the little boy reached the bottom of the stairs, safely, he bolted across the room and climbed onto his dad’s back. 

“You okay there, bud?” Jack chuckled looking over his shoulder. 

“Daddy wants me to take a _bain_ ” he said it with so much disdain Jack almost felt sorry for the kid. 

“That’s a part of life My, plus we’re going to see Grand-Maman and Grand-Papa today, don’t you want to smell nice for them?” He felt his son shake his head no against his back. 

“You’re not taking a bath.” 

“Oh, I will. I’m going to be very smelly after these push-ups,” he did one for good measure. “One….” He sniffed the air loudly. “Ouch, already starting to stink. Two,” he lowered himself down and up again, making Myles giggle. The sound always brought a smile to his face. A few more reps and he’d bring the boy up to Bits so that he could have a bath. Jack did another push up. 

“Three,” Myles counted for him. Jack was stunned to silence. He did another to try it again. 

“Four.” 

“Five.” 

“Five.” 

“Six, bud,” Jack corrected with a soft laugh. 

“Six,” Myles repeated. And then said it again for the seventh. It wasn’t much, but it was progress. The stubborn little monster had just found a way to successfully get himself out of taking a bath. For now. 

Jack helped him count all the way to ten, twice, before getting up. 

“You know My, you helped me to all those push-ups, you’re going to be all smelly too,” he made a show of turning to get a whiff of him. “Pee-yew! I think you smell more than me! We wouldn’t want Grand-Maman to smell us like this. Come on; let’s go see of Dad still has that bath running…” 

Before he could escape, Jack secured the boy’s legs around his rib cage and sprinted up the stairs two by two. 

_X_ 

It became a morning ritual for them. Before even getting breakfast, as soon as he hopped out of bed, Myles would climb onto his father’s back and Jack would do as many push-ups as Myles could count. It was just the motivation the boy needed. 

“Daddy said he would teach me to count to 7 trillion! Can you do 7 trillion push-ups Papa?” he asked one morning. Jack was going to kill Bittle. 

“If you can do it, I’ll try,” Jack chuckled. “Let’s start from the beginning though okay?” he said going down into the first push-up. 

“One….Two….Three….Four….” 

5\. 

The Habs were having a ‘Bring your kid to work’ day. The kids got to visit the locker room, go for a skate with their dads and wander around the training facilities. This year, Jack brought Myles along. Daisy had come last year, and besides, this year she had informed him that Daddy was going to teach her how to make carrot cupcakes with maple cream cheese frosting. Myles however, had gladly accepted the opportunity. And, for Myles, coming to work with Papa meant wandering off towards the gym wearing his tiny little Habs t-shirt and baseball cap. 

After a few chirps from the guys, Jack followed his son into the Habs’ weight room. He watched, with a smile on his face as his son explored the room. 

“Can we dad?” Myles asked, bouncing up and down. “Like at home?” 

“Sure bud,” Jack laughed. He was going to get chirped by the guys anyway. However, instead of leading the workout this time, Jack decided to let Myles take over and let him roam free. He ran straight towards the elastic bands handing from the ceiling, grasping them in his hands and pulling them down to the floor. With a chuckle Jack decided to pull out his phone and set it up. He’d already filmed other parts of their day, as per his husband’s request. 

He followed Myles along, pulling down the elastics until the kid got bored and went to go pick up some weights. 

“Woah there bud,” Jack stopped him as he made a grab at the 25 lbs dumbbells. “How ‘bout these?” he suggested handing him the five pounders instead. Myles accepted them gladly and started mimicking the curls he’d seen is Papa do countless times. It took a much shorter time doing this to tire the poor kid out though. After less than half a dozen reps, he dropped his weights and collapsed onto the floor with a loud sigh. Jack mimicked him, making the boy giggle loudly. 

“I’m so tired,” Jack sighed, throwing an arm over his head. “The coaches are going to be so mad; I’m not going to be able to play tonight.” 

Myles let out an appalled gasp and scrambled to his feet. He grabbed onto Jack’s arm and pulled it away from his face. 

“Papa, you gotta play!” he exclaimed, tugging on the arm, trying to get his father to stand up. 

With a large moan, and a groan, and a sigh too, Myles finally managed to pull his father up into a standing position. 

“Alright, alright, I guess I can play,” Jack huffed, pretending to wipe his brow. “Can we get a snack from the nook first?” 

Myles definitely would not turn down that offer. Laughing, Jack grabbed his phone and followed his boy out of the room. 

That night, after the Habs’ win against the Stars, a new video became viral on Youtube. _New Habs trainer is brutal_

+1  
If Jack wasn’t panting yet, he was pretty darn close. He tried to control his breathing as his feet rhythmically hit the sidewalk underfoot. He tried to increase his pace a little more. It was the final stretch, he was almost there. It was almost over. 

“Glad you finally made it back old man, thought I was going to have to put together a search party,” Daisy chirped when Jack finally came to a stop in front of her dorm. She was standing on the walkway, bouncing from one foot to the other excitedly. A wide grin was spread across her face and she was glowing. Yes, glowing. It barely looked like she’d broken a sweat. 

Maybe he _was_ getting old. His eldest was starting college after all… 

Oh boy. 

“I let you win,” he huffed, bracing his hands on his knees. 

“Oh yeah, sure,” she laughed. 

“You know, you got your father’s speed. It’s a shame we don’t get a chance to see it out on the ice.” 

Daisy’s expression grew somber. She dropped her gaze to her bright yellow sneakers and scuffed her toes against the pavement. “M’sorry,” she mumbled. 

“What? Oh, honey no that’s not what I meant.” Jack pushed himself to stand upright and closed the gap between the two of them. He wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “I do not care what position to play Daisy. Hell, I don’t if you didn’t join the Hockey team; as long as it’s not the lacrosse team I’ll support you one hundred percent and I promise to come to every family weekend. The Samwell Woman’s Hockey team is getting the best damn goalie there is and she’s _my_ kid, how could I not be proud of that?” 

Her cheeks turned a darker shade of pink than they already were. “Thanks Pa.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him a squeeze. 

“Come on, I’m sure your Dad is back with breakfast; we should get back upstairs and eat so that we can start getting you unpacked. I’ll race you.” With a quick noogie to distract her, he stole her key card to open the door and quickly dropped it outside and let the door slam shut, effectively giving himself enough of a head start that he might actually get upstairs first. 

He really was getting old. But that would never stop him from spending time with his kids.

**Author's Note:**

> This photo [here](http://babyphotography1.tumblr.com/post/153516124032)
> 
> This post [here](http://novaks.tumblr.com/post/154596955375/my-new-mmacrossfit-trainer-is-brutal-but-i-have)
> 
> And this clip [here](https://www.instagram.com/p/BNMEYaRgGBB/)


End file.
